Thirty six year old obstetrician Morgan Jacobsen has had only two serious romances in her entire life, and they’d both ended years ago. She’s philosophical about her single state when she has time to think about it at all. She has a career that consumes her, a pregnant foster daughter, Tessa, whom she’s growing to love, a messy home of her own that she adores, and several challenged pets that she’s rescued from the SPCA. Life is good—until her estranged mother decides to move in with her.Obstetrician Luke Gilbert is also thirty-six, but age and occupation are the only similarities between him and Morgan. Luke is impeccably groomed, a widower and the father of a fifteen-year-old daughter, Sophie. He’s polite, remote, unavailable, and a hopeless workaholic. He’s quiet, self-contained, unemotional: all the things Morgan emphatically isn’t. Morgan has never told a living soul that Luke starred in a series of highly erotic x-rated dreams that plagued her for months, but although the dreams have stopped she still prefers not to be around Doctor Gilbert—not easy when she has to work with him. He’s simply too perfect for comfort.But Luke’s perfection is a facade. His daughter is pregnant by his best friend’s son, and Luke’s relationship with Sophie is beyond stormy. When Sophie and Tessa become friends, he finds himself confiding in Morgan—and lusting after her as well. Lust soon becomes love, but love has an insurmountable number of obstacles to overcome. Can two baby doctors deliver a happy ending?Excerpt:Morgan had barely made it to the wedding.The organ music swelled into a rendition of the wedding march and she surged to her feet with the rest of the congregation, wishing for the millionth time that she was taller than five-one. She stood on her toes and craned her neck for a glimpse of the bridal pair.Suddenly, a sharp cry from the pew behind her made her look around. A single glance at Pam’s stricken face made Morgan struggle past the bodies blocking her from the aisle.“Excuse me, s’cuse me. Let me past, please.”At last she broke free. Pam’s husband, his face ashen, had half lifted his wife into the aisle. Bloodstained fluid was gushing down Pam’s legs, pooling on the oak flooring. The membranes had ruptured, and Pam was obviously having violent contractions.“There’s something hanging down.” Pam’s anguished whisper alerted Morgan, and oblivious to the craning heads and curious, shocked faces surrounding them, she squatted down and lifted the hem of Pam’s long, loose maternity dress.Holy toot. A bolt of panic went skittering through her. The umbilical cord, the baby’s life-line in the uterus, had prolapsed, slipping into the vaginal canal along with the rush of amniotic fluid. The baby’s life was in terrible danger, its vital supply of oxygen already cut off.Morgan reached up and deftly pulled Pam’s underwear down around her ankles, then grabbed her hands and urged her to her knees.“Down. Get down on your hands and knees, right now, head on your hands, bottom in the air. Frank, help her.”Morgan’s voice, deep-throated and urgent, rose above the organ music, and when Pam hesitated, Morgan took her upper arms and, with Frank’s help, bodily forced her to the floor.“Hold her there. Don’t let her move,” she commanded Pam’s horrified husband.He crouched with an arm across his wife’s body, stammering, “I don’t understand. What’s going on? Is the ba-baby coming right now?” His eyes were filled with terror.“Just keep her down. Keep her still.” There was no time for explanations. Morgan threw herself to her knees behind her patient, searching for the unborn baby’s shoulder and lifting it away from the compressed umbilical cord.Pam’s scream of agony rose above the organ music, and there were shocked and appalled exclamations from wedding guests who didn’t understand what was going on.“Someone call 911, get an ambulance here fast. This baby’s in a hurry to get born.” And it would be a miracle if it survived.

A warehouse fire rages out of control. Firefighter Shannon O'Shea enters the burning structure. A beam shakes loose, her path is blocked. And then a miracle... Firefighter Shannon O'Shea is lifted from the rubble of a burning building by an unknown fireman, his protective gear shielding his identity. She's convinced her mystery rescuer is John Forrester, the newest member of their team. But when John denies it, Shannon becomes suspicious. Nothing about John seems to add up. Is he behind the explosion and fire? The only way to find the truth is to get closer to her sexy, enigmatic colleague...and risk the heat of their attraction.

Ever wondered what it might be like to be a mail order bride? Or the groom, already married to a woman he’s never laid eyes on? On the Canadian prairies in 1886, having a mail order romance wasn’t unusual. Noah Ferguson desperately needed help on his farm. Annie Tompkins knew she couldn’t go on working in Lazenby’s cotton mill. So she’d been a little less than honest in her letters, was that really so terrible? It was unforgivable, Noah fumed. He’d wanted an older widow, and Annie was a young virgin. But even that wasn’t the full extent of her lies.Problem is, Noah hasn’t exactly been straight with Annie, either, and his secret has the power to break Annie’s heart.Can even a special Christmas gift make their marriage work? Read an Excerpt:What the hell had possessed him to shave off his beard this morning, Noah wondered? His rugged features might look better without all that wild black hair, but the beard might also have kept his chin from freezing, waiting for this damnable train.And after all, what did he care how he might appear to her? It wasn’t as if he had to court her; the marriage was over, the legal bond established between them. She had insisted on a proxy marriage before she left Toronto on the four-day train journey that was bringing her here to Medicine Hat. Against his better judgment—and the advice of the only lawyer in town—Noah had agreed.He’d wanted it all over and done with. He’d signed the papers and sent the money for the fare, and now that she was almost here, his gut was churning. He wished to God the train would get here so they could be done with this awful first meeting, he and Annie Tompkins.Annie Ferguson, he corrected himself. Annie Ferguson, his second wife. Tall, she'd described herself. Thirty-four, on the thin side, and plain, which suited him just fine. He’d been relieved to read her description of herself; after all, this was no love match, far from it.Instead, it was a practical solution for them both. She was a soldier's wife, widowed in the Rebellion of 1885, a farm woman trapped in the city, working in some dingy factory to support herself and her young daughter while longing for the country life she'd known as a child.And as for him, this marriage was a desperate measure.He thought of his cranky, bed-ridden father, being cared for at this moment by a kindly neighbor, then deliberately forced his thoughts back to his new wife.Redheaded, she’d said, which worried Noah some. Was it true, what they said about a redhead’s temper? There’d been no sign of it in the eight letters she’d sent during the past months, and Lord only knew he had no experience of women’s temper and no desire to learn.Molly had been the sweetest of women. In their three years of marriage, Noah was hard put to recall times when she’d even come close to losing her temper.Molly. Without warning, bitter rage at his loss welled up in him, rage so intense that his tall, well-muscled body trembled with the force of it, and he clenched his teeth and knotted his hands into fists inside the blue wool mittens his dead wife had knitted for him.There were holes worn through one thumb and two fingers. Noah had clumsily mended them.It had been two years now since Molly and his eighteen-month-old son, Jeremy, had died within hours of one another, victims of typhoid, and in recent months he'd begun to believe this smothering, impotent, choking fury was gone forever, that time had eased the agony of his loss. Instead, here it was back again, as powerful as ever, and now there was this gnawing guilt as well.I never wanted any woman but you, Molly. Still don’t, but I can’t do it alone anymore, not since Dad had the stroke. If you’d lived, Molly, I wouldn’t be in this damnable position, waiting to meet some stranger. I’ve had to invite her to share the house we built together, the bed we slept in. Damn it all, Molly, how could you do this to me?

He's got lots of patients--but she's the one with patience to spare!Dr. Tony O'Connor, chief of staff at St. Joseph's Hospital in Vancouver, has a short fuse these days. His mother is driving him crazy. His father, whom he hasn't seen in thirty-two years, is coming to visit with the woman he loves, and the members of Tony's family are taking sides. Not only that, Tony has just injured his ankle and gotten himself laid up in St. Joe's.Kate Lewis, the hospital's patient representative, is an expert at coping. Maybe she can help Tony out.Except that soon Tony and Kate are facing even more problems. Like what to do about the volatile feelings between them...and how to stop putting their own needs last.

"Tell the sprout his old man's about to start on the adventure of a lifetime..."Some adventure. Roy Nolan was last seen more than thirty years ago heading into the Alaskan bush. His body was never recovered. And everything Alex knows about this man--his father--comes from an old police report and letters to his mother.Maybe if he'd known Roy, his life would've been different. Happier. Maybe if Alex can follow the man's soul-searching journey, he'll understand himself better. Be able to move beyond the tragedies in his past.Maybe he could even let himself take a chance with Ivy, the helicopter pilot who wants him to stay....